


a little mayhem never hurt anyone

by Yevynaea



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Crossover, Fix-It, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, One Shot, Sasha James Lives, Short One Shot, The Magnus Archives Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28745016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: They end up in London quite unintentionally. Dirk and Todd and Farah were in the middle of a case involving people going missing, and weird doors to nowhere, and the Rowdy 3 got involved half by accident, and when Amanda fell through a door, her boys didn’t hesitate to rush in after her.They’d ended up in a long hallway, full of fun things to smash, but then another door appeared and they stepped out.(Or: the Rowdy 3 show up at the Magnus Institute in the middle of Prentiss' attack, and cause a bit of havoc.)
Relationships: the rowdy 3 are their own relationship tag
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	a little mayhem never hurt anyone

They end up in London quite unintentionally. Dirk and Todd and Farah were in the middle of a case involving people going missing, and weird doors to nowhere, and the Rowdy 3 got involved half by accident, and when Amanda fell through a door, her boys didn’t hesitate to rush in after her.

They’d ended up in a long hallway, full of fun things to smash, but then another door appeared and they stepped out. And now they’re in…

“London,” Amanda recognizes, listening to the accents of people walking by on the street, looking at the cars and the license plates and the road signs. “I think we’re in London.”

“Smells funny here,” Vogel complains.

“Bibbit?” the Beast wonders, looking back the way they’d come, but there’s no door, and no sign of Dirk or the others.

“Now what?” Gripps asks, looking to Amanda.

“...I don’t know,” she admits. “Do you guys smell anything?”

The boys spread out a little, trying to pick up a scent, and--

“This’a way,” Martin says, using the bat in his hand to point down the street, and the others quickly agree. Amanda grins.

“Let’s go.”

  
  


Their noses lead them to a place called The Magnus Institute, and it’s not difficult to get in, because when they get there, a fire alarm is going off, so most people already  _ in  _ the building are trying to get  _ out. _

“This way, downstairs,” Vogel says, excited, taking the lead in his excitement. “Crazy shit going on down here.”

  
  


They almost pass the door entirely, but something makes Amanda stop.  _ Artifact Storage,  _ the sign says, and she’s curious enough to open the door. Martin stays back with her, waves the others on ahead.

“--found that table you were talking about.” A voice, somewhere among the shelves and tarp-covered furniture, each object giving off its own sort of strangeness. “Don’t see what all the fuss is--”

“Hello?” Amanda calls, and there’s a gasp of surprise, fear.

“Hello?” the voice asks. Footsteps, and a tall woman Amanda’s age, or maybe a little younger, peeks her head around a corner. She's got long, dark hair, and big, round glasses. “Who are you?”

“The Rowdy 3,” Amanda says, and the woman looks pointedly between the two of them, Amanda and Martin, but says nothing about it. Amanda likes her already.

“I’m Sasha,” the woman introduces herself, stepping out from behind the shelf. She seems to be taking in the bat in Martin’s hand, the crowbar in Amanda’s. “How did you-- why are you… here?”

“Dunno,” Amanda shrugs. “There was this weird yellow door, and we just kind of… ended up finding our way here.”

“Oh! Did you come to make a statement, then?” Sasha asks. "Because now isn't really a good time."

"We're here to help," Amanda says.

Sasha looks at them again, at their weapons.

“...We’re not going to hurt anyone,” Amanda says. Martin makes an  _ eh  _ sound and an iffy gesture, and Amanda elbows him in the arm. “Unless there’s someone that needs hurting,” she allows. “But you’d have to point us in the right direction, for that.”

Sasha gives a startled, disbelieving little laugh.

“Okay,” she says anyway, walking over to them-- then not hesitating to walk in between them, forcing Amanda and Martin to step back and let her through. Amanda grins; she  _ really  _ likes this girl.

  
  


Martin Blackwood is alone in the tunnels, until he isn’t.

He hears them before he sees them.

“That worm lady was  _ wild _ ,” one says, sounding excited, and Martin freezes, because it sounds like the voice is coming from right around the next corner. It also sounds American, which is a little strange in itself.

“Any get in you?” another voice, a little gruffer, also American, and then two ‘no’s in unison. “Beast?”

“Nuh-uh,” another new voice. So there are four of them. Four strangers in the tunnels with him, four strangers who might be monsters, or might at least be  _ dangerous _ , and Martin takes a step back-- only to fall with a short yelp as he trips over a rock. Sitting on the ground now, torch held tight in his hand, he stays completely still, listening to the silence.

And then the strangers are rushing around the corner, all holding mallets and crowbars and other blunt weapons. Martin flinches as they surround him, a woman with brightly dyed hair getting down on all fours to get right in Martin’s face.

“Who are you?” one of the three men asks.

“M-Martin,” Martin says, trying to back away, but she only follows.

“You’re not Martin, you’re British!” the youngest of them protests.

“You some kinda name thief?” another asks, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Martin is very confused.

“No?” he says, but it sounds more like a question. “I’m-- my name is Martin Blackwood? I work in the Archives. Wh-where the ‘worm lady’ is.”

“You with the worm lady?”

“No!”

“But you said--”

“She’s attacking! I’m not  _ with  _ her, it’s-- she attacked us.”

“She attacked us too,” the third guy says, nodding sagely. “Beast, let him up.”

The woman backs off, giving Martin room to stand, and he scrambles to his feet. The strangers also step back, giving him his space.

“Sorry, who did you say you were?” he asks.

“The rowdy three,” the third one says, like that should mean something.

“He smells like the Dirk guy,” the young one comments to the others, and Martin doesn’t know what that means either, so he doesn’t comment on any of it.

“Uh…” he starts instead, looking at the intersection of tunnels they’re in, each path identical to the last, “...do you remember which way you came from?”

The strangers all turn in circles, looking more confused and frustrated by the second. Martin sighs. “Right,” he says.

He picks a direction at random, and starts walking, unsurprised when the… rowdies… follow him.

  
  


Sasha breaks into a run when she hears Tim and Jon start screaming, and the strange couple who found her in Artifact Storage are right on her heels, rushing into the Archives. Jane Prentiss is there, standing over Jon and Tim where they’re writhing on the ground, worms swarming them, burrowing into their skin.

“Oh my god,” Sasha says, stopping in her tracks, but the self-named Rowdy Three shoulder past her, weapons raised, going right for Prentiss-- and then the fire suppression system goes off.

  
  


They’re reunited sometime between when people in hazmat suits flood the building and when the cops carry a body up out of the tunnels. They’re ordered to strip partway, to assure none of them have worms in them, and the boys and Beast are all wary, antsy, but they follow Amanda’s lead in complying.

It’s been hours by the time everything is settled and the police have taken statements, and the short man in the sweater vest comes up to Amanda with a tape recorder, asks if  _ he  _ can get a statement from them. Amanda almost shrugs, almost agrees-- but then her eyes are drawn over his shoulder, to where a bright yellow door is set into the wall.

“Actually,” she says, clapping the guy on the shoulder, “I think our ride is here. Come on, boys.”

The others howl and laugh their agreement, and make their way to the door. The short man calls out for her to wait, but Amanda only waves over her shoulder, ignoring him.

  
  


As the door closes behind the odd strangers, the Archives staff is left in silence.

“Who the  _ hell  _ were they?” Tim asks.

“The Rowdy Three,” Martin and Sasha answer at once.

“But, there were  _ six  _ of them,” Jon says, puzzled. Martin shrugs, a little helplessly. Jon looks back to the door the strangers left through-- only it isn’t there. And never should have been, Jon realizes belatedly. There’s never been a door there.


End file.
